AT THE EISTEDDFOD

Dominion, Volume 16, Issue 170, 6 April 1923, Page 7

AT THE EISTEDDFOD

GLIMPSES OF A WELSH MUSICAL FESTIVAL. Tho dirty little train pursues its leisurely way down the valley as usual, but, when it reaches the town at the end, instead of disgorging the usual bored handful of business men, out from a dozen of its carriages there tumbles a crowd of •chattering, excited children.

Tho crowd gathers itself in some sort of order around two harassed-looking men, who appear above the heads of the children, like two scraggv hens surrounded by a particularly boisterous ’and enormous brook of chicks. Ond man seems to have the tickets, another has a piece of much-used and folded music sticking out of his waistcoat pocket. This’ is tho day of tho Eisteddfod, this is one of the competing children’s choirs; these men are tho conductor and secretary. Hie streets are already filling with other children, with flappers “in” for the soprano solo, with children “in for tho recitation, all. making their way to the preliminary tests held in various vestries, font by various churches to whom tho Welsh institution of tho Eisteddfod is only second in sanctity. Here the chaff is sifted from tho wheat, thirty competitors boiled down to three to appear in tho final contest in tho main hall; and if sometimes the adjudicator does not know lus work very well, and some of tho wheat is discarded, while some of t'he chafi| gets through, it is all in the day s luck. An Eisteddfod is very like hie. After the noon hour tho mam hall fills. The chief adjudicator arrives. Bravo man, ho does not write criticisms from the safety of his office, he has to stand up and deliver judgment before the despairing singers, and their outraged and adoring relatives. Small girls, all curls and hair ribbons. paw tho air in their efforts to bo dramatic in their recitations; tl-o voung singers appear, one alter another is disposed of, and the winner has a daintv little bag hung round her neck bv the local M.P. . In these prosaic days a money prize is more acceptable than a laurel wreath and empty fame, but the AVelsh are a romantic nation, and would blush to cive mouev in all its nakedness. The conductor, chosen for his ready wit (for his is tho task of keeping the hot crowd good-humoured all through the long evening), calls the competitoHere is a bov with the dreamy eyes of a Celt and a glorious tenor voice, pouring out his soul in song, li one did not know, one would never believe that the boy has probably been in tho nit or in front of the furnace all night, having changed his shift with an obi g ing mate. In these days a turn < - not be lost, and so ho. worked his night shift, getting home in tho moining in time to cat the breakfast his loyal old mother had. readv. for nm , to bath and change into lus Sunday clothes, and catch the morning train. He forgets that he is a cog in a grea industrial machine, and for tee minutes, ho is just an artist as God meant him to be. . ... Tlie audience is beginning to vilt a little, when the conductor announce “Children’s choirs.” Everybody sits up - heat and fatigue forgotten. . P The harassed man of the morning train comes gawkily on to the s > - > very conscious of Ins hands and feet. After him troon fifty children in orderly rows. Fifty pairs of bright eve/ fasten themselves upon him* fifty little mouths, open obedient,h. fifty little voices sing every syllable ami note ns they have teen trained to «in.r. Once he faces Ins choir the conductor lojms nil Ins shvness and the nm-formanco goes off without a lutcn. Thunders of rnplause, murmurs of rnpture from Ml the women "resent Then comes the champion' solo, and then the male voice choir, mit last so that the men may come after work is ° A Terrific scrambles for trains. All the ’ competitors are on their vav home Tim ball, a moment before crammed full, is now empty. Only the organisers are left. Imsi'v eounting their inkiims -From “Daily News.